


into something good

by mimizans



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 22:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5308868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimizans/pseuds/mimizans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander bumps into Eliza because he doesn’t see her. He doesn’t see her because he’s too busy talking to himself, out loud, in public, at a house party, about his law review article. Maybe that's not the best story for future family dinners, but it is the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	into something good

**Author's Note:**

> what she says: i'm fine
> 
> what she means: eliza schuyler in any time and place is smart and capable and interesting. do not ever let anyone convince you otherwise. therefore, modern AU eliza schuyler is a reluctant poli sci major with a passion for education reform and child welfare
> 
> (for reference, there actually IS an essay in the most recent columbia law review about using litigation as a tool for education reform, so check it out on their website if you're interested)

Alexander doesn’t see her. He doesn’t see her because he’s too busy talking to himself, out loud, in public, at a house party, about his law review essay. 

“I’m sorry,” Alexander trips out, breaking off his public education litigation soliloquy as beer sloshes over his hand. His eyes refocus, having previously been locked squarely on the middle distance, and he finds himself staring down at a pair of small, soft-looking brown boots.

“Oh, no, it’s my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” a woman says, and Alexander has never heard anyone’s voice sound so much like a church bell. His eyes travel up and he sees her face, round and kind and happy. Her wide dark eyes look back at him.

Alexander only realizes that he’s been staring for way too long when she smiles quizzically at him, and if she didn’t think there was something weird about him before, what with the fact that he bumped into her because he was busy having a conversation with himself, she definitely must now. And he’s usually so good at making first impressions. 

“No way,” Alexander says, shaking his head partially for emphasis and partially to clear the fog that has clouded his brain. “You look like the world’s cutest kindergarten teacher, so you could not possibly have done anything wrong.” She laughs, sweet and clear, and Alexander smiles. That’s more like it. “I, on the other hand, was barely present in this room. I apologize, and I take full responsibility for my mistake.”

“Well, since you were so eloquent, I accept your apology,” she says, cocking her head to the side. “I am interested as to where you were, though.”

“Ah,” Alexander says, scratching at the back of his head. “I was back at the law review offices. I’ve been working on an essay about public education litigation for the past few days, and that’s pretty much _all_ I’ve been doing.”

“Don’t tell me,” she says with another laugh. “You came here straight from your desk.”

Alexander shrugs and grins. “Guilty as charged. I’m Alexander Hamilton, by the way.” He offers her his hand.

“Eliza,” she replies, shaking his hand lightly. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well. So I look like a workaholic, huh?” he asks, running a finger along the rim of his Solo cup. 

Eliza laughs, like the question is silly. “You have bags under your eyes and your hair in what I fondly refer to as the ‘I’m Busy Bun.’”

Alexander reaches up reflexively to touch the knot near the top of his head. “Oh, yeah," he laughs. "I guess you’re right.”

“My sister’s the same way,” Eliza says. “She’s a big proponent of the I’m Busy Bun. You might know her, actually. Angelica Schuyler?”

“You’re _Angelica’s_ Eliza?” Alexander asks, his eyes widening. He would laugh right now if that wouldn’t mean explaining to Eliza exactly why he’s laughing.

“Yes,” Eliza says, nodding. “You know her, I guess?”

“Yeah, I do. We’re friends,” Alexander says, and, figuring he might as well bite the bullet now, “We, uh, dated last spring.”

Now Eliza’s dark eyes widen. “You’re _that_ Alexander?” she says, point an accusatory finger at him. 

“Oh, God, what did she say about me?” Alexander asks, laughing. 

“No, no, it’s not bad,” Eliza says quickly, laying a placating hand on his arm. “She just talked a lot about you. Still does, actually. She only says that nicest things, though!”

“Then why the shock-and-awe reaction?” Alexander asks, noticing the way her hand lingers on his bicep before falling away. 

“She never said you were so handsome,” Eliza replies. A pretty blush spreads over her cheeks. Alexander feels butterflies in his stomach.

“Hey,” he says, trying his hardest to get the tone of the question just right, “it’s pretty warm in here. Do you wanna go talk outside?”

Eliza’s cheeks are still pink, but she looks him over shrewdly. Trying to read his intentions, probably. He makes his face as open as possible. “Alright,” she finally says. “Let’s go outside.”

Alexander resists the urge to take her hand as they weave their way through crowded rooms. He pauses briefly to clap Lafayette on the back and congratulate him on a great party and to press a loud kiss to a laughing Laurens’s cheek, then pushes the screen door open and steps out into the night air, Eliza close behind. She slips past him before he can turn and properly hold the door for her, which he finds completely charming. 

There’s an unseasonable chill in the air, so he and Eliza sit close on a rickety wooden bench, painted blue. The porch is relatively quiet; there are a few people talking quietly at the other end, gathered in a circle of folding chairs, and a couple of smokers out on the sidewalk, the ends of their cigarettes glowing as dimly as distant stars.

“So, what did you say your article was about?” Eliza asks, turning slightly on the bench to look at Alexander. The fluorescent bulb overhead casts a halo on her dark hair. 

“Public education litigation,” Alexander answers, pulling at a loose string on the seam of his jeans. “It’s about how lawsuits and judicial intervention might help alleviate education inequality, you know, and close the gap between the suburbs and low income areas.” He pauses. “Are you at Columbia Law, by the way?”

“Oh, no,” Eliza replies, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m a junior at Wellesley, I’m just visiting my sister this weekend. I do think that’s an interesting topic, though. I want to do advocacy work when I graduate, and right now I’m student teaching at a charter school in the city. I mean, magnets and charter schools are supposed to be the bridge between low income students and better education, but the number of schools is kept so small. 20,000 applications come in for 5,000 spots! I don’t understand how the legislature can sleep at night knowing that they’re functionally limiting the number of students who can access better quality education.”

Alexander grins and props his elbow up on the back of the bench, leaning towards her. “You sound like a Poli Sci major.”

“Unfortunately,” Eliza replies, grimacing. “I have absolutely zero interest in politics themselves. I’d never want to be a politician or work in D.C. or anything like that, but it’s the most convenient major for what I do want to do. I’m an Education Studies minor, though,” Eliza says, her face brightening. “I mean, obviously, with the student teaching. I’m taking a seminar this semester on the history of child welfare in America, and I’m super excited! I think it’s going to be really interesting.”

Eliza's face is alight and animated, her body cheating slightly towards him, her hair dancing in the slight breeze. A piece gets caught in her mouth. “You’re really great,” Alexander says, and Eliza looks at him like he has three heads as she brushes her hair away from her face. But she’s smiling, so, hey, that’s good.

“I mean,” Alexander says, trying to sound less like he’s planning his wedding to this girl he’s known for less than an hour, “I love that you’re so passionate about the work you want to do.”

Eliza nods. “I figure why devote your life to something unless you really care about it? If I’m going to make a career out of something, it had better be something I’m passionate about, right?”

“Right,” Alexander agrees, and basks in the smile that she turns on him.

“You must care about your work, too, to give yourself those tired eyes over it,” Eliza says, reaching up to tap gently at one of his dark under-eye circles.

“I’ll have you know that these are partially genetic,” Alexander says with a low laugh. “But yes, I do. It’s cliched, but I want to make a difference in the world. I want people to know my name - and not for a stupid reason, but because I’ve done something, well.... something _great_. Because I’ve accomplished something worthwhile. When I’m gone, I want to be remembered as someone who affected meaningful and positive change.”

“You’ve really thought this out, huh?” Eliza asks. She lays a soft hand on his knee. “That’s a pretty tall order, changing the world.”

Alexander shrugs, wearing a careful smile. “Well, they say to shoot for the moon...”

“Because even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars!” Eliza finishes, smiling back at him. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you can do it. I haven’t known you for long, I know, but there’s just something about you,” she says, nodding with surety.

“What do you mean?” Alexander asks.

Eliza is quiet for a moment, as if trying to find the words. “I don’t know, you just seem like you could do anything if you really set your mind to it. There’s a... spark in you, I guess. A glow, like an ember. I know that sounds new-wavey and weird,” she says, rolling her eyes, “but it’s true!”

Alexander looks at her for a long moment. “Thank you,” he finally says, and means it as sincerely as he ever has in his life. He reaches out to touch Eliza’s cheek, gently, and when she doesn’t move away, he fits his palm to the curve of her face. He marvels at how warm her skin is and wonders if her warmth is an illusion of the cold weather or if she always feels like this. 

For a moment, the noise of the party fades, the laughter of the smokers on the sidewalk vanishes into wisps, the ambient noise of the city evaporates, and all Alexander can hear is Eliza’s breathing. She looks down at his hand resting against her face, his thumb stroking her cheekbone, then her eyes drift back up to lock with his.

Later, Alexander can’t remember making the decision to lean forward. It’s as if he’s being pulled inexorably towards her by some force greater than he can comprehend, something cosmic or divine. He understands, somehow, that once he has reached her he won’t be able to pull away, and instead of frightening him, it leaves him calm as the sea after a storm. Eliza is starting to close her eyes. They are so close, so close. Alexander can almost feel her lips on his...

“What is this?!” he hears a sharp voice ask, followed by a high laugh. Alexander pulls away from Eliza so fast he almost upends the bench they’re sitting on.

“Alexander Hamilton! Out here putting the moves on my sister.” It’s Angelica, because of course it is. "I would say I can't believe it, but I absolutely can." Alexander turns in his seat to see her hovering in the doorway, her hands on her hips. Her theatrical scowl isn’t doing much to hide the small smile that keeps threatening to break out on her lips. There’s a girl hovering behind her, her hair a riot of pink curls and a sharp grin on her face, who must have been the source of the laugh. The girl looks like Angelica, has the same _je ne sais quoi_ , so Alexander guesses that this must be the infamous Peggy Schuyler, she formerly of the plaid skirts and parental platitudes, currently of the experimental fashion and nose piercings. 

“Hi, Angelica,” Eliza says sunnily from behind him, and Alexander almost laughs at the rapidity with which Angelica’s gaze shifts from mock-reproachful to adoring as she looks at her sister. “Hi, Peggy!”

“What’re you doing out here?” Peggy asks with a Cheshire cat smile.

“Being wooed,” Angelica supplies. “Unsuccessfully, I hope.”

“Impossible,” Alexander says, scoffing comically. “You know I don’t have it in me to fail, Angelica.”

“He’s been pretty successful so far,” Eliza chimes in.

Alexander turns to grin at her. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” Eliza laughs, and when Alexander looks at Angelica again, she’s smiling softly at her sister, all traces of her scowl washed away.

“Peggy and I are heading back to my apartment,” Angelica says. “Are you gonna come with us or hang out here?”

“I think I’ll stay here for awhile longer,” Eliza responds, glancing unsubtly at Alexander from under her eyelashes.

“Imagine that,” Angelica says, mock-sour, and Alexander winks at her. “Just don’t walk home alone, okay?”

“I won’t,” Eliza assures her. “Alexander will walk me. Right?”

“Right,” Alexander agrees, grinning obnoxiously and beaming at Angelica, daring her not to smile back at him.

Angelica cracks, a smile spreading across her face as her eyes linger on Eliza and Alexander seated thigh to thigh on the bench. “Alright. See you later, Eliza. Bye, Alexander. Take care of my sister.”

“Count on it,” Alexander says.

“Bye guys!” Eliza says, waving at her sisters as they step off the porch and into the night. Angelica turns briefly to wave goodbye, and Peggy gives Eliza a thumbs up before she follows Angelica down the street.

“So,” Eliza says eventually, folding her hands in her lap.

“So,” Alexander echoes, scooping up her hands in his.

“Tell me about yourself,” Eliza says. “I mean, obviously you go to Columbia. You’re on the law review board. You work too hard. What else? What about your childhood?”

Alexander shrugs. “I’m not all that interesting, really,” he says.

Eliza rolls her eyes, almost fondly. “Now I know that’s not true. I’ll go first, how about that?” Before he can say otherwise, she launches into a lively monologue: She is the second oldest of seven siblings, she says, and she, Angelica, and Peggy are all only one year apart from each other. She describes her childhood vividly - a whirlwind of activity, a house full of laughter and life, secrets shared with her sisters underneath the covers past their bedtime, the time her brother John tried to climb the Christmas tree and sent it crashing to the ground. Alexander can’t imagine what her life has been like. It all seems so foreign and wonderful, like pictures from a storybook about a warm, pretty girl and her warm, funny family - except it’s real, and that warm, pretty girl is sitting next to him, holding his hands. 

Eliza trails to an end. She looks at him: expectantly, but not demanding. He can tell that if he really doesn’t want to share, she won’t press the issue. Strangely enough, he does want to share. 

He speaks haltingly at first, telling her about his childhood in St. Croix. He talks about his mother, and smiles as he describes her strength, her resilience, her wonderful sense of humor. Eliza squeezes his hands tighter when he tells her about his mother’s death and the sickness that almost took him too. Alexander talks about the brother he hasn’t seen since he was 13, and the father he hasn’t heard from since he was 10. Eliza listens intently, and asks all the right questions, and plays with his fingers, threading them between her own. She looks at him with her big dark eyes full of kindness, and Alexander realizes that he’s never felt so _full_ in his life.

The party is emptying out, the room behind them almost quiet now. A few valiant stragglers are playing beer pong, and their voices filter out through the open window.

“It’s getting late,” Alexander says, finally. Quietly. “Do you want me to walk you to Angelica’s?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” Eliza says, equally quiet, and when they rise from the bench she lets one of his hands fall away from hers but refuses to surrender the other. 

She walks close by Alexander’s side as they stroll down the darkened street. Alexander swings their hands between them, letting momentum make their arc bigger and bigger, so that Eliza laughs.

“Sorry if I overwhelmed you,” Alexander says, glancing at her. “I know my childhood’s not the most fun thing to hear about.”

Eliza shakes her head. “I don’t mind,” she says. “Not every story has to be a happy one. I’m just glad that you’re here now.”

“Yeah?” Alexander asks, bumping their shoulders together lightly.

“Yeah,” Eliza replies, smiling brightly at him.

“I’m glad that you’re here too,” Alexander tells her, and watches as her smile grows so bright it’s almost blinding.

When they reach Angelica’s door, Eliza pauses and turns to him. “Here we are,” she says.

“Yes, here we are,” Alexander agrees. He waits for a moment, watches as her face grows incredulous. She puts her hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow. “I’m sorry,” Alexander says, smiling cheekily at her, “were you waiting for something?”

Eliza is still for a second before she shrugs and turns to open her sister’s door.

“No, no, no! I’m kidding,” Alexander laughs, snaking an around Eliza’s waist and turning her to face him.

Eliza’s arms are crossed over her chest, but she’s smiling up at him. “So are you going to kiss me or not, Alexander Hamilton?”

“I’m going to kiss you,” Alexander says, and leans in to do just that.

He comes in a little too fast and their noses bump, but they just giggle against each other’s mouths and fit their lips together. Eliza twines her arms around Alexander’s neck and plays with the short, soft hair that grows there. Their lips move against each other, gentle and warm and perfect, and Alexander pulls Eliza as close to him as he can.

When she finally breaks the kiss, Alexander, eyes still closed, blindly follows her lips. It takes her gentle laugh for him to open his eyes and see her smiling up at him, her cheeks a pretty pink and her lips red from kissing. 

“Thank you for walking me home,” Eliza says, taking a step back and fishing her keys out of her back pocket.

“Absolutely no problem whatsoever,” Alexander replies, and he refuses to be embarrassed about how warm his face is. “Oh, wait! I never got your number.”

Eliza pauses with her hand on the doorknob and smiles. “Well, it’s pretty late, isn’t it? You’ll just have to come by tomorrow morning and get it.”

Alexander laughs. “Alright,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ll see you then, okay?”

“I’m counting on it,” Eliza replies.

**Author's Note:**

> things i still wanna write in this verse tho:  
> the alex/angie conversation that takes place as he and eliza get serious  
> The Peggy Story: This Girl Eloped By Climbing Out Her Window on a Bedsheet Rope, Imagine Her in a Modern AU
> 
> i'll also take requests if ya'll have em :) i'm aceicequeen on tumblr, so hit me up there.


End file.
